Miracle at Mawbry's
by Mistletoe Contest
Summary: Two homeless souls bond together in their struggle for survival. Together they find their guardian angel, who takes them out of the cold and into the warmth. (Chatty mistletoe involved).


**Title:** Miracle at Mawbry's

**Summary:** Two homeless souls bond together in their struggle for survival. Together they find their guardian angel, who takes them out of the cold and into the warmth. (Chatty mistletoe involved).

**Pairing:** Edward and Bella

**Rating:** M

**Word Count:** 5983

Mawbry's is a small, neighborhood bar. Its yellow neon sign tilts to the side and blinks with a twitch over the front door. The walls are covered in faded, red velvet paper, and the tables and chairs are all mismatched. The long wooden bar is weathered; peeling and covered in scratches. It only takes one-hundred people to fill the small space to capacity.

The same regulars eat, drink and play pool with no surprises. Mr. Mawbry is a kind man and his generosity makes him larger than life. He allows me to sing every Friday night. Whatever tips are thrown my way, I get to keep, and he sends me off with a bag of warm, greasy burgers and fries as well as a huge chunk of apple pie.

His efficiency apartment is over the bar with a Murphy, pull-down bed, a ratty brown sofa and a round, wooden spool as a coffee table. There's a lounge chair next to a small, wooden table with two chairs, and a small TV on a wooden, snack table. The place is a plethora of colors.

He lets me shower and wash my clothes every Friday afternoon. I trade my cleanliness for pies and cakes. He says his business has tripled with my sweet voice and tasty pastries. I think he exaggerates to make me feel better.

He wipes his hands on his stained, off-white apron and warns, whispering in my ear, "Now, Bella, you be careful and tuck that money away." He offers his back room again to me, but I don't accept. One of his sons scares me, so I avoid any conflict that could mess with this gig.

"Thank you, Mr. Mawbry. I'll see you next Friday," as I hug him.

"You come by, if you need anything," he sternly points a finger and stares with his soft, watery blue eyes.

I nod and smile, "I will, thank you."

The door closes behind me as I flip my jacket collar up tighter around my neck and pull my stocking cap over my ears. A moist, feathery crystal falls on my bare hands. I look up into the darkening sky and see the beginning of a White Christmas. Any other time I would revel with joy, but this year I beg for my warm spot in the alley.

Sticking close to the cold side of the brick building, I make my way around the corner. It's a quiet part of these busy streets and you can hear faint honking and hustling in the distance. No one walks past the big garbage bin since the building is condemned and sealed shut.

This is where all my worldly goods are kept … Invisibly tucked in the back, under a huge gray tarp. I sadly giggle to myself … Worldly goods. It's a beat-up cardboard box that I call home, and it hosts my meager possessions; clothes, blankets, a twin mattress, flashlight, a few bottles of water and a book of fairytales. Yeah, I still hold on tight to the kid in me.

As I walk closer to the bin, I stop as my heart begins to beat insanely faster. I can hear angry, male voices and soft grunts.

"Just take his shoes, man, and let's get out of here. He has nothing!" a raspy voice shout gruffly.

I blend into the darkness while two husky males run past me. Then, I hear the moans.

A shivering figure curls in a fetal position in front of my bin. Unable to see him clearly, I rummage through my box and retrieve my flashlight, all the while calmly whispering, "You'll be all right. I'm here."

I drop my bag of food onto a blanket, then quickly remove the loose, bottom brick from the wall and shove my money into the small makeshift safe and then replace the brick.

Bending next to him, I flash the light over his long, lean body and see an Army jacket covering his broad shoulders, torn baggy jeans, and bare feet. Man, they took his socks, too?

Another slight moan hums from his chest, along with quiet 'fuck'. I place the light over his head, so I don't blind him. I don't see any bruises on his face. His eyes are closed with furrowed brows. He's in pain somewhere.

"Where did they hurt you? Can you speak?" I gently touch the side of his scraggly, bearded face.

He slowly moves onto his back. Leaning into my palm and opening his eyes, he whispers, "They shoved me against the bin. I lost my footing and hit my head."

I automatically run my fingers to the back of his tangled, long hair. He startles, but I soothe, "I won't hurt you."

I don't notice the tingling in my hand until I look into his eyes … emerald green orbs with flecks of gold, a lighter green color, and a rim of pale blue. I catch my breath, not realizing that I was actually holding it.

And him.

He tries to sit up, but he groans again and lies back down. "Sorry, I'm a little dizzy."

"Well, you do have a bump the size of a golf ball, but there's no blood," I blurt out. "Do you know who jumped you?"

He slowly shakes his head from side to side. "No, two guys were following me and I tried to lose them, but I was unsuccessful."

"Did you lose consciousness?"

He says a quick 'no', tries to sit again, but only manages to lean on me. "Sorry," he blows out. I place an arm around his back, he buries his head into my neck and groans, "You smell good."

I smile.

"You're such a guy. You get mugged, they take your shoes and socks, and all you can say is that I smell good?"

"You do," he says staring at my mouth. "And you're pretty."

I huff and lower my head. "Look, let's get you up and out of this cold. It's really starting to snow, your hands are like ice, and your feet are blue."

We struggle, but stand upright.

"Where are we going?" he asks.

I point, "Just behind the bin."

He looks with question but holds on tightly as we walk around to my hidden home.

He sits on the mattress, cross-legged, and a little hunched over as I wrap a blanket around his legs.

"Better?"

He nods. "Yeah, thanks."

"Hungry?"

I grab the bag and hand him a wrapped burger. "They were nice and warm."

"But these are yours?" he questions.

"I can't eat three burgers." I smile.

"Then, why did you…"

I interrupt him." I work at Mawbry's on Friday night. The owner likes to send me home with food." I take a bite and he sinks his teeth in a few times, filling his cheeks and chewing quickly.

Before I can take another bite, I see him pop the rest into his mouth. "When was the last time you've eaten?"

"Two days ago. I found half an apple." He shrugs.

I cringe.

"Do you mind if I lie down? I don't feel very well. I think I ate too fast," he groans.

I crouch and help him down covering him with the blanket tucking his feet underneath.

"That better?" I place a rolled up jacket under his head.

"Yeah, thanks." He grabs for my hand and squeezes it. "You didn't have to help me."

"I couldn't let you lie there." I smile. "Your groaning would have kept me up all night."

We laugh.

I reach into my jacket pocket and pull out a bottle of ibuprofen. "You should take two of these."

Placing the pills in my hand, I grab a water bottle and twist off the top. Without asking, I carefully slide my hand under his neck. He watches in silence with his eyes on mine. Lifting his head, I place the pills onto his tongue and bring the bottle to his full lips. He wraps his large hands over mine and drinks slowly at first but then begins to take larger gulps. Water escapes and dribbles over his bearded chin. I automatically juggle the bottle and wipe him with my bare hand.

He takes my hand into his and kisses my palm. "Soft." He flips my hand over. "So small." He looks back up and smiles at me. "You can close your mouth, now."

I clear my throat. "Yeah … right." I huff. "I'm not good about being charmed!"

He releases my hand. "Sorry, I didn't mean to … it's just nice to have someone to talk to."

I shake my head. "I know what you mean. It's hard being alone."

"Hey, what's your name, Pretty Girl?" he says fading in his speech.

"Bella Swan." I stick my hand out towards him and we shake.

"Edward Cullen." He nods. "I'm sorry to be nodding off on you. But when I did have my shoes, I was walking all night."

"It's okay. Get some sleep. We'll figure things out tomorrow." I lie down and cover myself with another blanket.

I watch Edward's steady breath with his mouth slightly open as he sleeps. Faintly he whispers, "Thank you, Bella."

Tonight I sleep with one eye open.

It's still dark when I wake. I rummage through my jacket pocket and take out the flashlight looking at my watch. It's almost six.

I carefully toss the blanket off and reach around a heavily sleeping Edward, to remove some money from my 'safe'. I measure my arm to his outstretched foot and then place it back under the covers. I quietly whisper in Edward's ear, "I'll be back soon. Please, don't go anywhere."

He sleepily mumbles an 'all right' and turns over.

I crawl out of the box, lifting the tarp and setting it back into place. Looking around to the empty street, I make my way around the corner.

About three blocks down, I head towards the back entrance of a thrift store and knock. Occasionally they let me help in the store and they'll give me an outfit. Mrs. McCarty, or Rose as she insists I call her, opens the door for me.

"You're out bright and early, Bella." She smiles. "Gotta pee?"

I giggle. "That and I need a few things." I show her some cash. "And I've got money."

She scoffs, "Your money's not good here."

"C'mon Rose, you've got mouths to feed," I complain.

"Have you seen my husband? He's eating just fine, Bella." She stares at me. "I'm not so sure about you, though."

"I'm fine." I shift one foot and then the other.

"Go pee," she orders and points behind her.

I am a clean freak, I admit. I take care of business, wash my hands and face, and run my fingers through my hair. Then I pull out the container for my toothbrush and brush my teeth.

I'm a homeless person with obsessive hygiene.

I think back to Edward's comment about smelling good. If he sticks around by Thursday he'll know I'm not always that fresh.

As I open the door, I find Rosalie walking towards me with a glazed donut and a glass of milk.

"I don't bake the way you do, but I can give you a little something. I would have given you coffee, but Emmett drank the last cup, the Neanderthal." She shakes her head. "And if I didn't hide some of the donuts, he would have eaten them, as well."

I take her offerings and smile, "Thanks."

She crosses her arms over her chest. "So other than Mother Nature, what brings you here?"

It's after seven when I leave the store. The sun in the sky rises without a cloud in sight and the fallen snow shimmers like jeweled prisms. The temperature is still cold, but the sun warms my face as I make my way back to the bin.

Quietly I enter and find Edward still asleep, balled up against the inner wall. One foot peeks out from beneath the blankets and I gently touch his foot and feel his cold skin.

I have a large bag of assorted clothes for him and a smaller bag with donuts and juice - Rosalie's idea. Between her and Mr. Mawbry, I won't go hungry and neither will Edward.

Edward brings out all my motherly instincts. No, I don't want to mother him, but I do want to take care of him. He isn't as street savvy as me.

He stirs and opens an eye. "Hi."

"Hi, how are you feeling?" I ask.

Edward stretches his neck from side to side, sits up and smiles. "Not bad. A little achy, but I'll live thanks to you."

I shyly smile and reach into the small bag and extend the orange juice. "Here." He takes it with a 'thank you'. "And donuts." I place the bag between us and pull out two, handing him one. "The big bag is for you."

He opens it, frowns and questions, "What's all this?"

I shrug. "Some sweaters, a pair of sneakers … socks. And there's a small bag in there with a toothbrush and toiletries."

"Why? How? You don't know me," he sputters.

"You can't walk around without shoes," I quickly reply.

"I'm not your problem!" he shouts.

I scoot myself back from his surprise outburst, my eyes sting with the build up of tears and I turn away.

He sighs and reaches out for me. With a little squeeze to my arm, he pleads, "I'm sorry. That's a fucked up way to say thank you.

I look at him and smile, wiping my eyes. "I get it."

"Look, being on the streets was my own stupid doing. My pride won't allow me to ask for help."

I lean forward with my arms around my legs and rest my chin on my hands watching him. "What happened?"

"I was in my third year of Med School. My dad's a bigwig lawyer, and my choices were either medicine or law," he explains and sinks his teeth into the donut.

"But what were _your_ choices?" I ask.

He smiles. "Music. It would always be music."

I draw out, "But … ?"

"I finally chose music. One night I was in a club, met some guys in a band, auditioned for them, and they wanted me. So, I dropped out of school." He nervously rubs his bearded chin.

"What did you father say?" I inch closer to him.

"Nothing," he quietly answers.

"But … ?" I draw out again.

Edward recounts, "He cut me off. I was thrown out of my apartment, all my bank accounts were quickly closed, and I was told to take nothing. I showed up at band practice and they reneged on their offer when I told them I was penniless. They didn't want any drama."

"What a bunch of assholes. They did nothing to help you?"

He leans forward and sighs, "Bella, I wasn't their problem."

I argue, "But you needed help."

"Well, not all people are like you, Pretty Girl." He smiles and raises his hands. "Look at your humble abode and yet you went out of your way for me, a complete stranger."

I look him into the eyes. "When you are down, you can see someone else's view."

Edward nods, "Touche` ... So, what's your story?"

I shrug. "No family, no help."

He frowns.

"My dad was killed on duty. He was a police officer, and my greedy mother took all the insurance money and ran off."

Edward whispers, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," I mumble.

He encourages me to continue. "What happened after that?"

"I couldn't pay the mortgage after I got laid off. I was the only secretary to the only lawyer in town … a small town … A very small town with everyone knowing everyone's business. So, I packed light and headed here to make my fortune." I laugh. "The hotel I was staying at was a flea bag, whore station. Two pimps tried to recruit me and when I said no, they had my room ransacked. It was painful, I felt stupid, but I learned a valuable lesson very quickly. That was over six months ago."

Edward gasps, "Shit."

"I walked around the city for the longest time, until I found this abandoned building. I watched it for days to see if there was any movement. No one walked down this street. Well, until you." I smile and he smiles back.

"The summer was tolerable. It was hot during the day, but the nights were cool. A few weeks ago, the weather turned really frigid." I shiver.

"So, you found your little niche?" he says.

"I've been saving money for a few months. Mawbry's is the bar around the corner and the owner has been good to me. I think I'm the daughter he never had."

"Do you wait tables?" he asks.

Something stops me from telling Edward about my singing. "Sometimes, but I bake pies and cakes for him, in return for the use of his washer, dryer and shower."

Edward huffs, "I think I miss a shower the most. I must be rank."

"Other than your hair looking wild, you're not offensive, Edward," I respond.

He laughs. "Gas stations that have soap and paper towels work for me. I'm not good about dirt. I'm kind of a freak about hygiene."

I laugh. "Me, too."

He opens the bag wider and takes out the clothing. "How did you know my size?"

"You're thin, but you have a large frame." I giggle. "I also cheated and measured your foot up against my arm."

He laughs boldly … kind of musically.

He pulls the sneakers out of the bag along with the package of socks. "I'll pay you back, Bella, once I get a job." He quickly slides them on and tries the sneakers.

I wave my hand. "That's okay. You needed them."

"Man, my feet feel warmer already." He stands and climbs out of the box. I follow.

I watch him walk around the bin with a huge grin on his face. Then, he lunges for me, turning me around in a bear hug. "Thank you."

As my feet dangle a good foot off of the ground, I hug Edward back. "You're welcome." I laugh. "Now, put me down. I'm getting dizzy."

He slowly releases me from his grip, but I remain in front of him but a few inches away. He's so much taller than me that I have to bend my head back in order to see his glowing smile.

Edward clears his throat and gets down on one knee. "One day I will marry you, Bella." He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a plastic ring. "I found this in a gum machine yesterday, right before I was mugged." He shakes his head. "Like a real, good luck charm, it brought me to you."

I giggle all through this banter.

Edward continues his goofball proposal. "I don't know you and you don't know me. So, we have a lifetime to learn about one another." He slips the ring on my finger.

"Ah Edward, I haven't said yes, yet!" I hiccup.

"C'mon, Bella, Don't ruin the moment. You just bought me shoes, woman. Wait, did I see underwear in that bag, too?" he taunts me.

I turn a brilliant red.

He smiles and fakes a Southern accent, "Ya did? Ha ha ha, ya did! Those are marrying tightie-whities, baby. You have to say, yes, now … I have to save your reputation!"

"But I haven't been kissed," I blurt out.

And Edward complies.

Wrapping his arms around my waist, he leans down and commands my mouth. Like a Mozart symphony, we play our instruments and dance the dance. Well, play the tune. He squeezes me closer to him, as I run my fingers through his soft, long locks. Without missing a beat, he lifts me higher and I wrap my legs around his waist.

He breaks us apart slightly and whispers so sweetly over my lips, "Wear my ring, Bella."

I look directly into his eyes and smile. "Are you trying to sweep me off my feet?"

"No, but you already covered mine."

He continues to kiss me, and surprisingly I kiss him back.

He loosens his grip, I slide down his body, feeling his arousal. I'm sure he feels my warmth.

One more time he repeats, "Wear my ring, Bella."

He's serious.

I swallow hard, take a breath and grab his hand.

I don't speak.

He doesn't move, but there's an understanding that falls into place.

During the week, Edward and I walk throughout the neighborhood. A few days, he works with Emmett in the thrift store, and true to his word, he gives me money for the clothing. At my pleading, I get Rose to explain to him that I didn't spend a dime, but he feels he owes me for at least rental of half the mattress. He brings a smile to my face, and the money goes into the 'safe'.

Rose insists this is a good sign of Edward's character, and I shouldn't question my play ring. She feels he's smitten with me, hook, line and sinker … her words.

She sighs and shakes her head as she walks away.

I call out, "Rose?"

She turns, sticks her tongue out and winks.

Later that night, Edward asks what Rose and I were talking about, and I openly tell him her theory. He smiles and plays with my hair, "Maybe, she's on to something there."

I sleep in his arms all night.

We walk to the main library and share our love of literature and design. Sitting on the floor in a corner, we huddle together with a stack of books at our side. Each time we giggle, we get nasty stares and Edward and I both glare back.

Rose invites us for a BBQ. She says Emmett loves to cook outside in the winter. When we get to their house, we find Emmett with a chef's hat on and apron out on the deck off the kitchen. We see the flames flare when he tosses on the steaks, burgers and chops. He smiles and shouts, "It's a meat fest!"

The weather turns a little warmer with very sunny days and easier nights. It's still cold, but not bitter. Edward says body heat; skin on skin would keep us toasty.

I mumble nice try but he says he's not pushing for anything but warmth. I told him I would think it over.

On Thursday night, we both walk to the gas station for hot chocolate and cookies. When we get back, I check my safe and find all the money gone. I start to cry hysterically, and think the most horrible things about Edward. I confront him about what I've found.

He quietly sighs that he didn't take it to steal from me. He just didn't feel comfortable or trusting leaving it while we were gone. He hands it all to me, every dollar.

I apologize to him for thinking the worst. He grabs me, and wraps me in his arms.

All is right with the world.

On Friday, we make our way to Mawbry's. I introduce him to Mr. Mawbry and they hit it off right away. Mr. Mawbry puts him to work behind the bar, while I bake in the kitchen.

I finish early and head up the stairs to take my shower, scrub my hair and shave my legs. After a quick towel dry, I dress, put on some makeup, and do my hair. I smile into the mirror over the sink.

"Not bad."

As I walk out of the bathroom, I find James Mawbry, the son that scares me, sitting on the beat up sofa with his feet up on a wooden spool.

He sarcastically moans, "Feeling all clean … Bel-la."

I uncomfortably walk near the door with hurried steps. "Yeah."

His lanky form stands in front of me, blocking my way. His hands caress my shoulders, as he takes a deep breath. "Yeah, you smell…" He lowers his head to my neck. "... Fresh as daisies."

I try to move away, but he places a hand around my back.

"Now, where are you going? I just want to get to know you better." He runs his nose up my neck. "Such soft skin," he whispers in my ear, "And you look great in a dress."

"Please, don't," I shakily say.

"Don't what, Bella? For weeks you've been teasing me." He runs a hand up my arm and over my collarbone, and circles his palms around my waist. "I'm just collecting on all your flirtation."

"I haven't done anything," I plead.

He shushes me with a light tap from his finger to my lips.

I want to bite him.

"Ssshhh, I've seen you shake your ass in my direction, little girl." He runs his hands from my waist to cup my ass. He squeezes.

I catch him off guard and shove him off me and he stumbles. "Stay away from me!"

He takes two steps, grabs my hair and pushes my head back. "I'd say you need to be very grateful, little girl. My father has given you plenty. I just want to collect and even the deal."

"Look James, don't do this. It will hurt your father, and not to mention Edward will wipe the floor with you," I spit.

James laughs. "You're not going to say a word, Bella. I get what I want, and you get to continue coming here." He play with my hair.

I try to pull away from his grip, but he squeezes me tighter.

"It will be a lot easier if you cooperate. I think you'll enjoy…" He rubs his erection up against my stomach. "... My excitement."

He roughly grabs both of my wrists and slams them over my head into the wall behind me and groans, "C'mon Bella, be a good little girl."

He runs his slimy tongue over my neck, I cringe from his touch, and bile fills my mouth.

I grit my teeth and growl, "You make me sick!" I spit in his face, bring my knee up hard and kick him in the balls.

James keels over holding himself, screaming, "You little bitch, you're going to pay for this!"

Both Edward and Mr. Mawbry enter the room and look at James on the floor, as I crouch in the corner.

Mr. Mawbry rushes to me, kneels down, and inspects my wrists. He turns angrily towards James and accuses, "What was going on here?"

James grunts, "She's been coming on to me for weeks, I just called her on her play."

Edward looks at me, sees my appalled expression and lunges for James. He picks him up by his shirt and throws him onto the sofa. He then turns and looks at Mr Mawbry and says, "I'm sorry, but that bastard deserved it for touching her."

Mr. Mawbry rises, walks over to James and warns, "Don't step two feet near this place again, you hear me?"

James doesn't say a thing. He stands stiffly, gives out a grunt and reaches the door hunched over.

"Do … you … understand?" His father slowly enunciates.

James looks at the floor, "Yes, sir."

"Get out of here. And tell your mother I will be by tomorrow!"

I shake from within at the sound of his voice.

James closes the door behind him as he leaves.

Mr. Mawbry sits on the arm of the sofa shaking his head. "I am so sorry, Bella."

Edward takes me in his arms and rubs my back. "It's okay."

"He won't bother you again." He clears his throat. "Bella, has he ever…"

I quickly shout, "No, but he scared me ... I … I never led him on."

He puckers his lips, blows out a stream of air, and shoots me a smile. "I believe you, sweetheart."

He then stands, claps his hands and orders, "Okay Bella, let's you and me go downstairs, get the stage ready and let Edward clean up. I think he's in for quite a surprise."

Edward looks at me with a questionable expression.

The stage is a very small, raised area to the side of the bar that holds two acoustic guitars that no one plays, and a karaoke machine.

We string tiny, colored lights giving the place a hint of Christmas spirit. Suddenly, he pokes my arm and I see he has something in his hands.

He laughs and shows me this plastic, goofy-looking, green mistletoe in the shape of a face, wearing a red beret and sporting a goatee.

"You should show this to Edward."

He pulls the string and the mistletoe begins to talk with a French accent.

_Where I come from we do everything in French._

_You know what I mean?_

_Ha ha_

_Don't you?_

_If you are in the mood for a kiss,_

_I'll just be hanging around._

_ha ha._

_Did you make ze naughty list?_

_Well, there's still time?_

_ha ha._

_I wish you a Merry Kissmass._

_So pucker right up._

_Ho ho._

_On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me,_

_three French kisses._

_What can I say?_

_I'm allergic to hens._

_Deck the halls with lots of kisses_

_Fa la la la la aha_

_ha ha._

_Where I come from, we do everything in French._

_You know what I mean?_

_Aha ho ho."_

We laugh. "Where did you find this?"

"The back room." He smiles.

I stand on my tiptoes, hold the yakking mistletoe over our heads and kiss his cheek, giggling, "Thank you."

He gives me a hug, and asks me again if I am all right. I tell him I am fine. He tells me to sing my heart out tonight, and walks over to the bar.

Edward skips down the stairs towards Mr. Mawbry, but he points to the stage and Edward comes over to sit in front of me. He's wearing the dark green sweater from the thrift store and black jeans. His damp hair hangs loose on his shoulders, his face is free of hair and I see his beautiful, square jawline.

My.

My.

I sit on one of the stools playing with the karaoke machine and mic. It becomes very quiet, and everyone grabs a seat and sits near me.

Like a concert.

They all start to shout out song titles. I look at Edward and he mouths, "_More than Words_". I go through the book and find it.

The guitar intro plays and I begin to sing…

_Saying I love you_

_Is not the words I want to hear from you_

_It's not that I want you_

_Not to say, but if you only knew_

_How easy it would be to show me how you feel…_

Edward stands and says, "Hold it."

I look at him annoyed, but he whispers 'trust me'. So I stop the music as he grabs one of the guitars, tunes it and begins to play.

He whispers again, "Now sing."

_Saying I love you_

_Is not the words I want to hear from you_

_It's not that I want you_

_Not to say, but if you only knew_

_How easy it would be to show me how you feel…_

Edward joins me in harmony. I hold the mic in front of the both of us. I smile. We sound so good together.

_More than words is all you have to do to make it real_

_Then you wouldn't have to say that you love me_

_Cos I'd already know._

I watch his hands as he strums the guitar with such ease.

We sing:

_What would you do if my heart was torn in two_

_More than words to show you feel_

_That your love for me is real_

_What would you say if I took those words away_

_Then you couldn't make things new_

_Just by saying I love you_

_More than words_

_Now I've tried to talk to you and make you understand_

_All you have to do is close your eyes_

_And just reach out your hands and touch me_

_Hold me close don't ever let me go_

_More than words is all I ever needed you to show_

_Then you wouldn't have to say that you love me_

_Cos I'd already know_

_What would you do if my heart was torn in two_

_More than words to show you feel_

_That your love for me is real_

_What would you say if I took those words away_

_Then you couldn't make things new_

_Just by saying I love you _ (More than words by Extreme)

The audience explodes with shouts of _more_. Some people whistle while others hoot and holler.

Mr. Mawbry jumps up on the stage and asks for the mic. "Okay, settle down, settle down.

Give these two a moment and they'll be right back."

He motions for us to follow him.

As we walk into the back room, we see a man leaning on the desk. He reaches out and shakes both of our hands. "Bella, Edward, I'm Mark Harrington and I represent Steeple Records. We're an up and coming label. Now, Joe told me about you Bella, but I have to say I am very surprised and impressed with the both of you as a duo."

Edward and I look at Mr. Mawbry, as he closes the door.

He explains, "Mark is my nephew, and yes, I called him a few weeks ago and told him all about you, Bella. And the little shit finally found the time to come see you."

Mark embarrassingly interjects, "I'm more than sorry I didn't come sooner, but I would like to talk with both of you about representation. Maybe do a session … talk a contract. We have a full staff that would love to work with you."

The crowd roars in the background, stomping feet and clapping hands.

"We can talk later; you have a demanding group out there." He hugs his uncle. "Thanks, Joe. I'll be at mom's for Christmas; I know you'll be there."

Mark smiles and shakes his head. "Tomorrow, I'll see the both of you, Bella and Edward."

Mr. Mawbry pats Edward on the shoulder and hugs me. He walks out with Mark.

I look at Edward. "What just happened?"

"It seems your Mr. Mawbry is your guardian angel," Edward calmly implies.

"Edward, he's yours, too."

"No Bella, you are. My singing … guardian angel?"

I blush as Edward reaches down and embraces me tightly and the mistletoe triggers on.

"_Deck the halls with lots of kisses. Fa la la la la ah ho ho ho…"_

"What the hell is that?" Edward exclaims.

"_Where I come from we do everything in French. You know what I mean? ha ha Don't you?"_

"It's a Talking Mistletoe." I take it out and show it to Edward. He laughs.

"_If you are in the mood for a kiss, I'll just be hanging around. ha ha"_

Edward places it over our heads and leans in for a kiss.

He then tosses it to one side in order to hold me closer.

"_Did you make ze naughty list?_

_Well, there's still time? ha ha._

_I'm having reminiscing about your kissing._

_Well, remind me, huh? _

_Feliz Navidad, Muchos. What can I say? I'm bilingual. _

_I wish you a Merry Kissmass. So pucker right up. Ho ho._

_On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me,_

_three French kisses._

He deepens the kiss.

_What can I say?_

_I'm allergic to hens._

_Deck the halls with lots of kisses_

_Fa la la la la aha ha ha._

_Where I come from we do everything in French._

_You know what I mean?_

_Aha ho ho."_

And we ignore it.

**The End**

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